So He Shall Remember
by ber1719
Summary: John Watson isn't surprised or curious about much of anything anymore. Not since Sherlock...But a dark-haired, blue-eyed stranger who may not be a stranger at all may change his mind for the better. (Basically a fic prompted by my growing obsession with Modern AU Bagginshield)
1. Chapter 1

"**So He Shall Remember"**

**A Bagginshield/Thilbo One-Shot**

It's not been easy. Moving on after Sherlock. Surrounded as he was for months with the speculations and the article upon article in the paper and the constant mothering from Mrs. Hudson, John is surprised that he was ever left alone long enough to heal. Some days are easier. Most are harder. But he's found it's the small things that go the longest in helping him to keep the depression at bay.

Of late, he's taken up going to the cafe downstairs, Speedy's, every Saturday afternoon. He likes to watch the people. And he can't help himself as he tries to deduce things about them. Things that only Sherlock would ever be able to notice. He'll never be as good as Sherlock. No one could ever recreate that genius. But figuring out the lives of those around him rather than observing the obvious gap in his own keeps him sane.

Through it all, there is one stranger who remains an enigma. He first notices him on his third Saturday in a row. He orders a coffee. Black. No sugar. No cream. No pastries on the side. Just coffee. He doesn't meet anyone there. Just sits at the same table in the corner, drinks his coffee, pays, and leaves without a word to anyone. John thinks there might be something familiar about him. He's tall. With dark hair and the most beautiful blue eyes he's ever seen on any man. There's something sad about him. Sad and ancient and tragically compelling. And he knows he has a history with tall, dark-haired, compelling man but he can't help himself somehow. There's just something there. Something he can't quite put his finger on and no matter how _sure _he is that he's never seen him before in his life, it's like he knows him.

So the months pass. Autumn turns to Winter turns to Spring. Twenty-eight Saturdays have passed and still John hasn't manned up and approached the stranger. He's scared to admit that the other man, who's name he thinks might start with a T, intimidates him. He's also scared to admit that he knows what will happen if he takes that leap. He doesn't want a broken heart again. He doesn't want to gain another friend only to lose them. Mrs. Hudson is the only link he has to the old days of getting caught in the crossfires of unknown assassins and finding heads in the fridge. He didn't just lose Sherlock all those months ago. He lost Molly too. And Lestrade. He's tired of losing things and he doesn't know how much more he can give before he breaks apart all over again.

Still, despite all of these things, he knows he has to talk to him eventually. Feels the surety of it in his heart. Just as he felt the rightness of agreeing to be Sherlock's flatmate. Just as he'd known that becoming an army doctor was the right path for him. His gut was telling him over and over again to take that plunge. Damn the consequences.

So when he approaches that table in the corner, he feels the swell of anxiety in his stomach. For the first time in a year and a half, he welcomes it.

"Hello," John says simply and when the other man looks up at him with those blue eyes of his, he remembers. Remembers another life, another adventure, in a completely different point in time. And he knows he's made the right decision.

"Hello, my old friend."

**A/N: Alright so this wasn't as epically written as I thought it would be. But such is life. This is dedicated to my wifey, Lisette, because she made me ship bagginshield in the first place. Also because she's just awesome in general. I LOVE YOU BB! **


	2. Chapter 2

"**So He Shall Remember" **

**Part 2 of a Potential Series**

Sebastian Moran sipped his coffee. Always black with no sugar. It was bitter and left an aftertaste in his mouth that he could never shake. Didn't want to shake. Because it covered the ash and the dirt and the blood that he could still taste after all those years had passed.

At least, that was the purpose of the coffee before. _Before _John Watson began to frequent the same cafe. That was the point after all. He had been hoping, waiting, wishing that John would join him someday. And there it was, his opening. It happened on a bleak summer day, the sky overcast with clouds filled to bursting with rain waiting to soak the London citizens. Nothing ordinary about that day except the very extraordinary happenstance of Sebastian remembering who he really was.

Thorin Oakenshield. The name rocked through him that night with all the force of the thunder crashing down around him outside. It was terrifying. Exhilerating. Filled him with the deepest, most profound ache he had ever known. He knew then, feeling his new but very familiar mouth forming the syllables of the name, that it was his own. He was Thorin Oakenshield. And John Watson...well he had always been clever at hiding who he really was.

From that day after, he sat at the same exact table in the exact same cafe every single day until Bil-John finally noticed him. Finally approached him. Said _hello _of all things. No need to point out that his heart melted just the same as if he'd said something more, something bone shattering and beautiful.

That had been the end of the beginning. Thorin was just as much in love with this newer version of the man. It seemed time, distance, even death could not stop his feelings.

But as before, this love came at a price. Thorin was filled with the guilt that he was the enemy. He had had a hand in the death of Sherlock Holmes. The guilt weighed heavy on him, some days a nearly insurmountable pain throbbing behind his eyes. Only softened when his shame turned to liquid tears and broken sobs released around the pillow clutched so tightly to his chest.

He hated the lies, the deceptions. But they were necessary. He'd been forced to join Moriarty's glorified gang, forced by the same idiotic and inane reasons of the last quest. Money, power, glory, and world renown.

And each time he resolved to stray from the path that he had shackled himself with, there was always the hollow aching in his chest at the thought of losing his burglar again to remind him why he was doing this. He'd been selfish in his last life. The king born in a world destined to strike him down at every turn. The king, too blinded by the thought of reclaiming that former glory for not only himself but also his people, to see what was right there all along. A Hobbit who had traversed Middle-Earth to prove his loyalty. A Hobbit that he'd spent so much time patronizing and shoving away to really notice.

So this time, with whatever time he had left, he had decided to show Bilbo the same kindness and loyalty he'd been shown before. He owed the man that much. He owed him his life, in so many more ways than one.

He showed him faith. He showed him loyalty. But most importantly, he showed him love.

**A/N: I really hope that someone is excited about this. I know this story says completed on here, but I know a lot of you put it on story alert. So I figured it would just be easier to add it on as another chapter. Now I won't promise that there will be more to this story, but this idea was honestly just too good to pass up. So I hope you all enjoy!**


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